


Rhapsody

by LoversAntiquities



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marriage, Midair Sex, Omega Dean, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 05:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14969636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoversAntiquities/pseuds/LoversAntiquities
Summary: For the last few months, Dean has been waiting for this one moment, the culmination of years of planning and pledges, all boiling down into one event—Dean’s wedding. And not even to a human, unlike what he had always expected. To an Angel, an offering from their neighboring clan, meant to quell years of unrest and strife along their borders. With their union, pointless wars can be avoided, and their kinds can hopefully live in peace in the foreseeable future.Now, if Dean could only get through the actual ceremony, and what it entails.





	Rhapsody

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emikochan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emikochan/gifts).



For the last few months, Dean has been waiting for this one moment, the culmination of years of planning and pledges, all boiling down into one event—Dean’s wedding. And not even to a human, unlike what he had always expected. To an Angel, an offering from their neighboring clan, meant to quell years of unrest and strife along their borders. With their union, pointless wars can be avoided, and their kinds can hopefully live in peace in the foreseeable future.

Now, if Dean could only get through the actual ceremony, and what it entails.

“You’ll do fine,” Dean’s mother, Mary, mentions as she spreads a green shawl over his shoulders, drawing it tight around his neck. Red-faced, Dean ducks his head, even when she cups his cheeks and strokes her thumbs over his closed eyes. “You know Castiel. We wouldn’t ask you to marry a stranger, not even for this.”

“I know,” Dean sighs. Idly, he fiddles with the his cuffs, just for something to do with his hands, to keep his mind off the fact that he’s getting married to his friend—his best friend, arguably—in a few minutes. Who does that, anyway, for the betterment of their country? Why can't it be for love? Whether or not Castiel actually loves him, Dean doesn’t know, but his own feelings are resolute, steady: he’s loved Castiel since the moment they met.

Mary pats his cheeks again, lips curling into a smile. “You’ll do fine,” she repeats, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“Just be myself.” Nodding, Dean straightens himself, running both hands through his hair. Mary smooths down the errant strands out of reflex, chuckling all the while. “What if he wants me to…”

“Whether or not you catch is up to fate,” Mary says. “I wouldn’t mind a daughter, though. There’s too many boys in our family already.”

Softly, Dean laughs, palming his eyes.

“You’ll make a great father,” Mary offers. Patting his shoulders, she turns him towards the flaps of their tent, the sea breeze blowing in. “Now go. He’s waiting for you.”

Outside, the brilliant sun nearly blinds Dean as he steps foot into the sand. There aren’t as many spectators as he expected, just immediate family members on both sides; still, his face heats even hotter, knowing that he has onlookers to something so intimate. Matings between humans and Angels are… complex, to say the least, and for the purposes of their rites, Castiel plans to force Dean’s worst fear out into the open.

Flying.

Castiel stands along the shore, donning a black cassock with his feet buried in the sand; his cheeks are flushed red from the heat—or, Dean hopes, Castiel is just as embarrassed as he is. All six of his wings are exposed, the first time Dean has ever seen them, sable-black feathers dipped with white at the ends. Someone decorated him as well, each wing adorned with gold and jewelry all woven intricately between each feather. In the daylight, he practically glows.

Beautiful is an understatement—and Dean is marrying him, his best friend, his confidant.

Just barely, Dean resists the urge to run across the sand, just to save himself from the pain of burning soles. The rest of his and Castiel’s families wait further inland while Dean makes his way to Castiel’s side, waves lapping around their feet. Up close, Castiel is even more stunning, hair swept off to the side, blue eyes almost ethereal; Dean can’t help but stare. “They’re expecting us to sire children,” Castiel mentions, reaching between them to take Dean’s hands. He’s so warm, warmer than Dean had ever thought possible. “If you’re not ready, we can just—”

“I’m ready,” Dean blurts. In reality, this is all he’s thought about for months, if he’s honest with himself. Ever since his mother brought up the idea of marriage, all Dean fantasied about was this moment, of Castiel’s hands in his, bodies close and writhing. Not solely from his omega instincts, either; Dean yearns for Castiel beyond the lust, beyond the ceremony—Dean wants Castiel for life. A proper mating is the least they can do.

Softly, Castiel smiles and leans in just the slightest, letting their foreheads brush together. “Marry me?” Castiel asks, squeezing Dean’s hands tighter.

Dean nods, eyes slipping shut. “Love you,” he sighs, and slips his arms around Castiel’s neck.

Before Dean can accurately assess just what he’s done, he feels Castiel surround him with both arms and wings, just as the world underneath him disappears. Wind whips through his hair the higher they go, and objectively, Dean knows where they are—what they’re doing, essentially—but he still can’t bring himself to believe that they’re actually flying. Castiel holds him, vicelike, head tilted to the sky until they reach an acceptable altitude, at which he stops and draws two sets of wings around Dean, obscuring the distant ocean from view.

Which, _thank God_. “I ever tell you I’m terrified of flying?” Dean mentions, breath shaky. “I don’t think—”

“I’m not expecting to mate you here,” Castiel laughs. He nuzzles Dean’s neck briefly, peppering the vulnerable skin of his throat with kisses. “Though it is tempting. It’s easier for Angels.”

“Sure,” Dean huffs, lip between his teeth. “’Cause you guys have wings, while I just have legs.”

“I can always take you to my nest,” Castiel suggests. Dean burns hotter with the implication, and almost on instinct, he clings tighter to Castiel, legs around his waist, hiding his face under Castiel’s chin. “It’d be much more preferable than here.”

Dean laughs, toes curling just as Castiel grinds into him; just a tease, to let Dean know that Castiel is there, and he’s willing, most of all. And based on how hard Castiel is through his cassock, he’s more than willing to go through with this. “Nest sounds good,” Dean says. Castiel kisses his neck again, lips trailing up to his jaw, and Dean nearly whites out when Castiel nips just below his ear. “Or here, here’s good too—”

“We’re required to consummate our relationship in the sky,” Castiel reminds him, capturing Dean’s mouth in a kiss, warm and tantalizing and everything Dean has always thought about. “Would you like to ride me?”

Emphatically, Dean nods, his words failing him. This is really happening—Castiel is really shoving Dean’s pants down and palming his ass, fingers trailing over where he’s wet and leaking. It shouldn’t thrill Dean as much as it does, how close they are, how much Dean wants this. How much Castiel wants this, as well. “I want you to hold on,” Castiel murmurs. At Dean’s back, four of Castiel’s wings close in, feathers gliding gently across shivering skin. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathes, just as one of Castiel’s fingers pushes in. The angle is awkward, but they make it work, one of Castiel’s hands pressed firm to the center of Dean’s back while he thrusts two fingers inside, the wet noises it creates only serving to ignite Dean even further. “Cas,” Dean pants, burying his fists into Castiel’s cassock. Castiel steals his breath with another kiss, just as he teases another finger inside—and for a second, Dean almost lets go.

“Hold onto me,” Castiel repeats. Somehow, he manages to hoist Dean even higher with just one hand, his drenched fingers slipping free to undo the buttons on his cassock, all out of Dean’s sight; still, his fist bumps between them, and Dean only gets a second’s reprieve before he feels the blunt head of Castiel’s cock slide against his rim. “Do I have your permission?” he asks, kissing along Dean’s jaw.

Heatedly, Dean nods and fists Castiel’s hair by the root. “C’mon,” he begs, hesitance lost. “C’mon, want you.”

The first shove is unlike Dean has ever felt; a breach, but not unpleasant, like this is how it’s meant to be. Castiel kisses him in the interim, allowing Dean to adjust and to settle himself at his leisure, the steady thrum of energy through Castiel’s wings keeping Dean calm, stable in the face of plummeting to the ocean below. Another set of wings keeps them aloft, their monotonous flapping barely even registering to his senses; as far as Dean knows, they may as well be on the ground, safe in the sanctuary of Castiel’s nest.

Next time, though; next time, Castiel can pamper him and do this right. For now, Dean luxuriates in Castiel’s tentative thrusts, huffing soft breaths against Castiel’s lips, now swollen from kisses. Not enough kisses—not enough touch. “Cas.” Swallowing, Dean adjusts himself, holds Castiel as tight as he possibly can. “Cas, can you touch me?”

To Dean’s relief, Castiel obliges and snakes a hand between them. At his first touch, Dean gasps and clenches down, and Castiel just hisses against his lips, eyes pinched shut. Good—too good, almost heavenly, the way Castiel strokes him hard and fast, letting precome slick his hand on the upstroke. Dean feels the inevitable rise before he can stop himself, beginning to mouth frantically at the juncture of Castiel’s throat, too enrapt in pleasure to do much else.

“It’s time,” Castiel announces in nothing but a whisper, free hand dragging Dean closer.

Too much anticipation, too much buildup from both sides, probably; that’s the only way Dean can explain it, how close Castiel is, and how Dean isn’t far behind. In any other situation, they would last longer, and Dean would get to revel in the feel of Castiel’s knot thrusting inside. As of now, Dean bites back a moan and feels himself crest, come spilling into Castiel’s hand, just as Castiel thickens inside him, spilling deep, deeper than Dean ever thought possible.

At his back, Castiel’s wings spasm, feathers sliding together in a cacophony of chimes. Dean breathes in the noise almost like air, practically purring when Castiel begins to mouth at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, raking his teeth along the tendons. Just a tease, a promise of more to come. “Completing a mating is tedious, you understand,” Castiel hums, low. Dean shivers, full-bodied, just from the sound of his voice, gravel-rough and soothing. “We have all night, after all.”

Unfiltered, Dean laughs and pulls Castiel in for a proper kiss, full of tongue and mirth and hope for the future. Their future, together. “I wanna catch,” Dean says, hiding his smile against Castiel’s cheek. “I think… I think I’m ready for it. With you.”

Castiel chuckles and leans in for another kiss. “I’ll be here,” he says, earning Dean’s smile. “I won’t leave you, no matter what.”

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! As part of the Destiel Anthology, I was commissioned to write ABO with sex-while-flying by emikochan, which is highly impractical but was super fun to write. Thanks for the prompt, and I hope everyone likes this as well!
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://tragidean.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/loversantiquity).


End file.
